


Nothing

by Rambert



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: Allison doesn't know what chauvinist means, Andy has a really homophobic dad who traumatizes him, Choking, Fighting Kink, Frottage, Heavy Petting, Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Sad Ending, Semi-Public Sex, Struggle for Dominance, bisexual Bender, but Andy is still being a massive douche here, homophobic slur (censored), i didn't say they were good feelings, transantagonist language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 16:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20549213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambert/pseuds/Rambert
Summary: Tensions rise in the Breakfast Club. Andy and Bender call each other's bluffs after a sudden fight.Mind the tags!





	Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This movie isn't even good but for some reason I wrote this back in 2009 and now I'm reposting this moldy oldie here from DeviantART. For... posterity?

The Breakfast Club sat in utterly bored silence.  
  
Claire fiddled with her Tiffany’s bracelet, giving an irritated little sigh now and then.  
  
Brian appeared to be daydreaming, but he was really rehearsing formulas in his head. _x equals opposite b plus or minus the square root…_  
  
Allison was meticulously scraping all the dirt and gunk out from underneath her fingernails… and eating it.  
  
Andrew flexed his knee absently, the upcoming meet weighing heavily on his mind.  
  
Even Bender wasn’t misbehaving, much.

He’d spent the last half-hour writing every obscenity he could possibly think of on his desk in huge letters and then rubbing it off with his hand. (They’d only been given pencils after all.)  
  
But the silence didn’t last much longer. Bender stood up, clambered onto his desk, and announced to the library at large:

“I’m bored.”

  
Claire rolled her eyes, Brian averted his gaze, Andy exhaled in frustration.

Only Allison responded, “So?”

  
“So, I wanna _do_ something!” Bender shouted, making everyone except Allison flinch as he leaped off the desk, kicking over his chair and making quite a racket.

  
“Like _what_?” Claire spat. “You’ll just get us in trouble again.”

  
“Oh, and that would just be _too much_ for Princess Claire, now wouldn’t it?” Bender countered, getting up in her face again.

  
“For Chrissake, leave her be,” Andy said wearily. He’d already proved that he was tougher than Bender; five seconds of a tussle had seen to that.

But apparently it hadn’t quite sunk in yet because Bender rounded on Andy, coming around to the opposite side of the desk and placing his palms flat on the table.

“Relax, Sporto. I ain’t gonna touch her. Not yet, anyway,” he added, with a lecherous grin over his shoulder.

Claire scowled.

Bender straightened and stood up again, sighing as he laced his fingers behind his head. He began to pace around their desks.

“All I’m sayin’ is I wanna _do_ something. Play basketball, get laid, _something_.”

  
“Is your mind always on sex?” Claire asked, the disgust evident in her voice.

Bender smirked in response to her sneer, letting his hands fall.

“I don’t know. You’re the expert on judging male chauvinists here, apparently, so you tell me.”

  
Claire merely huffed indignantly and crossed her arms. There was a moment’s silence, and then:

  
“Depends on _which_ sex.”

  
“’Scuse me?” Bender turned towards Allison, who had that strange little half-smile on her hair-hidden face.

When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Depends on _which_ sex you’re obsessed with, whether you’re a chauvinist or not.” She giggled and fell silent.

  
After another pause, Brian asked timidly, “Are you—are you asking if he’s—if Bender’s gay?”

  
Bender strolled by Brian and clapped him on the back so hard he involuntarily coughed.

“Excellent deduction, Brian! Someone get this young man a gold star.”

  
“So, are you?” Allison asked, her voice insistent.

  
“Of course he isn’t,” Andy replied in a strangely defensive voice, as if it had been he who had been asked the question not Bender.

  
“And how would _you_ know?” Claire asked Andrew, her tone both accusatory and curious.

  
“What I’m thinkin’ is, how would _any_ of you know, without me _telling_ you?” Bender asked the group at large, giving Andy an odd look that the others didn’t see.

Turning to Allison he said, “And, since you asked, I’ll tell you—I’m bisexual.”

  
“_What_?!” Claire asked, much louder than it needed to be.

  
“Switch-hitter, double-dipper, whatever you want to call it, sweetheart,” he said, blowing Claire an invisible kiss. “I fuck around with chicks _and_ dicks.”

  
“That’s disgusting,” Andy said, looking at Bender as if for the first time.

  
“Oh, you think so, Sporto? You didn’t seem to think I had it in me a minute ago, and now I’m disgusting?”

  
“You know, I have an uncle who’s gay, and he’s just—well, normal,” Brian piped up suddenly, nodding at Andrew as if trying to be reassuring.

  
“No, they’re not!” Andy replied, his voice rising. “Gay people aren’t normal. They’re different from the rest of us, and they shouldn’t be allowed—“

  
“Now, Clark,” Bender said, cutting Andy off and walking towards him with a dangerous look in his eye. “Is that you talking, or your old man? Because even you don’t seem capable of spewing such ignorance.”

  
In one fluid motion Andy stood up, using the momentum to effortlessly bring up his fist and punch Bender hard in the jaw.

The other boy fell backwards, hitting one of the desks on his way down. Allison gasped, Brian winced, and Claire moaned, “Not _again_…”

  
But after the one punch Andy was through.

His breathing ragged, he strode quickly out of the library, not even caring to look whether Vernon was watching the door. Luckily the principal had gone on another trip to the vending machine, and so the hallway was unguarded.

Andy turned into the first bathroom he came to, walking all the way down to the large accessible stall at the end and locking himself in. He went to the corner, sliding slowly down to the floor, trying to get his breathing under control and wondering why his hands were shaking.

  
Back in the library Bender had gotten back up, massaging his jaw.

“Little prick,” he growled, starting to follow after Andy.

“Wait!” Claire cried and Bender spun around, irritated.

“_What_?”

  
Claire shrank away a bit from the harsh tone, but she said, “I just… I don’t want you to kill each other, okay?”

  
“Don’t worry, princess,” Bender said, a cruel grin beginning to form. “We’re just going to have a little chat.”

\--  
  
_What the hell is wrong with me? Am I really becoming my father? _

These thoughts assuaged Andrew in the wake of his fading anger as he sat in the corner of the bathroom stall, trying to calm down.

He replayed the conversation in his head, wondering how it had gotten so out of hand. But it had been Bender’s fault—going and announcing he liked other guys, just as easily as if he’d been telling Vernon to piss off. As much as Andy had to respect that kind of bravado and blunt honesty, he’d meant what he said, about it being disgusting. Especially a guy like Bender—underneath his tough clothes, Andy was pretty sure that the other boy was closer to Brian’s physique than his own. The ‘tough guy’ persona was probably an act too. If Bender slept with other guys, he probably liked it up the ass. He’d moan like a little bitch, writhing all around and tossing his head back, his face screwed up in pleasure and—  
  
“Clark, what the hell are you doing in there?”

  
Andy blushed crimson, and was so nervous about being caught in the middle of such horrible thoughts that he mistook completely the identity of the voice.

“Sorry, sir. I’ll be right out.”

  
A pair of boots showed up outside the stall.

There was a rustling of fabric and a _thump_ of knees hitting the floor; then Bender’s face appeared, his body hunched strangely so that he could see under the door. When he spoke, his tone was one of amused surprise.

“You call me disgusting, punch me out, and now you’re calling me ‘sir’? What the hell is _wrong_ with you, Sporto?”

And he proceeded to wedge himself under the door, sitting opposite Andy in the stall.

  
_I wish I knew_, Andy thought, but what came out was, “Christ, Bender, I thought you were Vernon. And can’t a guy get some privacy around here?” he asked, exasperated.

“What if I’d been taking a dump?”

  
“Do all straight guys shit in the corner of the biggest stalls, then? Is this some kind of Alpha pro-wrestler behavior?” Bender asked, the joking tone of his voice not quite reaching his eyes.

  
“Fuck you, asswipe,” Andy replied.

  
“Nice, Clark. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

  
“You kiss your old man with yours?”

  
The moment the words left Andy’s mouth, he instantly regretted them. But it was too late.

Bender was on him in a split-second, choking him. He’d pinned Andy’s arms underneath his own, and his fingers tightened viciously around the other boy’s neck. He was so furious that he didn’t even waste breath on a retort.

He just sat there, straddling Andy and watching him gasp for breath with those hard, flinty eyes.

And it might have continued that way; he might have kept holding on until Andy stopped moving beneath him, and turned purple from suffocation.

But luckily for Andrew, they were right next to the brick wall of the bathroom, and his right knee was directly under Bender’s groin. In a fit of adrenaline-charged energy he bodily lifted Bender with his legs and twisted sideways, using the impact of the wall to knee Bender hard where it hurt.

Bender released him instantly, and he rolled to the opposite edge of the stall.

For a moment there was no sound but gasping and coughing. Andy struggled into a sitting position, clutching his throat and breathing heavily.

Bender was still crumpled on the floor a few feet away, his hands between his legs, inhaling and exhaling sharply with his eyes shut tight. After a few seconds, Andy was able to speak, though his words were still hoarse.

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
Bender opened one eye, and it glowed with hatred.

  
“It was… a really shitty thing to say,” Andy continued, coughing a little before continuing. “I’d have done the same thing. I deserved that. I’m sorry.”

  
Bender sat up slowly, wincing as he re-arranged his legs. His eyes met Andy’s, the anger still there, but now it was returning to the normal, pissed-off trademark Bender look.

  
“Yeah, well… consider yourself lucky. I let you off easy.”

  
Andy chuckled slightly, even though it made him cough, and Bender smirked. The silence stretched between them, and Andy was contemplating leaving when Bender asked:

“So, do you honestly think that being gay is disgusting?”

  
‘Yes’ was on the tip of Andy’s tongue, but for some reason, he just couldn’t say it. Instead, he stared up at the ceiling and said:

“I don’t know.”

  
“Then why the fuck do you insist on spewing shit about it?” Bender asked.

Though Andy wasn’t looking at Bender he could feel the other boy’s eyes boring into him, looking for answers.

Andy sighed and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he started to speak.

  
“I suppose I could blame it on my old man, if I wanted to. See, I had this friend in elementary school... Matt. We were inseparable. We’d hang out almost every day, mostly at my house or at the park. He was pretty affectionate for a boy, but y’know, all kids love to give hugs.

I remember when I slept over at his house, Matt introducing me to his dad as his boyfriend, and Matt’s dad just laughed, and said, “I’ve got a boyfriend too,” and put his arm around this other guy. I just assumed they were best friends like me and Matt, so I didn’t think anything of it."

He paused, taking a deep breath, and Bender didn't say anything to interrupt so he kept going.

“When I got home the next day, my mom wanted to know how everything went... and she asked about Matt’s mom. I said he didn’t have one, and she asked, “Well, doesn’t his daddy have a wife?”

  
“No, he has a boyfriend. They’re just like Matt and me!” I said, meaning that they were best friends, or at least that’s what I thought I was saying. My dad took it entirely the wrong way of course, and... forbid me to hang out with Matt ever again.

At first I was upset, but my dad had a long talk with me about how Matt and his father were homosexuals, and how they were a danger to society and that they ruined families, and a bunch of other shit. Even then I thought it was ridiculous, but... my dad told me I'd be a disappointment and a burden of a son if I kept being friends with him. It... messed me up.

I stopped hanging out with Matt, and avoided him at school. After a while I even began to hate him a little bit, and I beat him up once in eighth grade, for no good reason at all. I didn’t even get in trouble for it, because he never told anyone. The next year, I heard he moved away, to Florida or something.”

Andy opened his eyes, but avoided Bender’s gaze. “I mean, can you believe it? Matt’s probably straight, too. But I made myself hate a kid that I’d been friends with for years, because my old man asked me to.”

He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked.

“I’m such a horrible person.”

  
There was a long, uneasy silence.

When Bender finally spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically quiet and calm.

“So. That’s why you attacked Larry, then, wasn’t it,” he said, nodding slightly to himself.

“Because you figured he was gay, and that it’d reaffirm your heterosexuality?”

  
“I—maybe. I don’t know,” Andy replied haltingly, rubbing a hand over his face and wishing he were alone. Anywhere but here.

  
“’Cause, you know, if you wanted to impress your dad even more, you could beat me up too,” Bender said, his voice mocking and cruel.

“I’m sure he’d love it.” He imitated a dialogue between Andy and his father.

  
“Hey Pop, guess what I did today?”

“What, son?”

“I beat up another f****t for you, Pop!”

“Aw, son, I’m so proud of you. All those wrestling moves being put to good use.”

“Yeah, Dad, just like on Larry!”

  
Now it was Andy’s turn to lose it, and he launched himself at Bender, slamming him hard against the wall.

“Way to take my advice, Sporto,” Bender wheezed.

Andy stalled and Bender seized his chance, pinning Andy to the floor in a similar fashion like before-- but this time his hands were on Andrew’s wrists instead of around his throat.

This time Andy was prepared, and with a deep breath followed by a grunt of exertion he used his own strength to roll them over, so that now he was the one pinning Bender.

Andrew was contemplating what to do next when he felt Bender wriggling against him.

“That’s pointless; I’m ten times stronger than you,” he said, pushing Bender’s wrists harder against the floor.

  
“Oh, trust me, I’ll get to a point,” Bender replied, smirking mischievously.

  
“What the hell are you—oh.”

Andy’s breath came out in a surprised rush, and his mouth hung open slightly.

Bender had moved so that they were hip-to-hip, and he’d arched up against Andy, grinding hard.

Seeing the other boy’s deer-in-the-headlights look he chuckled.

“I knew that’d get you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going now. I’ve had enough of this.”

And he tried to move his arms, but Andy still had them firmly pinned.

“What the hell, Clark?” he asked, irritated.

  
Andy had regained his composure by now, and he laughed coldly.

“You think one little hump will undo me? Jesus, Bender, I’ve had worse happen to me on the wrestling mat.”

  
“Yeah, but the question is whether you _like it_ or not,” Bender replied, arching up into another slow, hard grind.

  
“I think the question is whether or not _you_ like it,” Andy spat back, initiating a grind of his own, clumsy but determined.

It caught Bender off-guard, and Andy laughed cruelly at the flash of surprise he saw in the other boy’s eyes.

“So, do you like this sort of thing, Bender? Are you usually on your back like this?”

He shoved down with his hips again, but this time Bender had been arching up at the same time, and their hips collided, hard and brutal.

Andrew’s breath caught in his throat a bit, but luckily for him there was no vocal sound attached to it.

However, this fierce friction to his groin was certainly starting to provoke unwanted reactions, though he would rather die than admit that to Bender.

  
“I like to switch it up,” Bender replied, twisting his hips from side to side before settling down again.

“But if you get off that way, you can think whatever you want.”

He pushed up again and this time Andy mimicked him, meeting halfway and grinding into him firmly.

Something was starting to awaken in the pit of Andy’s stomach, and from the looks of it, something similar was happening to Bender.

But it wasn’t evident in Andy’s voice when he spoke, thank goodness.

“Well, _you’re_ the one who must be getting off on this, because you started it,” he replied, as their hips rocked together again, almost involuntarily at this point.

  
“I started it because I thought you’d be repulsed, and get the hell _off_ me, and yet here we are,” Bender shot back, and he started to increase the pace of his thrusts, making them shorter and faster.

Andy stalled, his eyes widening.

“Okay, Bender. Stop it. Seriously. You’ve had your fun now.”

  
“You’re the one still—on—top—of—me,” Bender said through clenched teeth, punctuating each one with a thrust.

  
“So, sex is your only weapon, then? How pathetic. You’re just a whore,” Andrew replied.

His tone was mocking, but his voice was growing tense as the rapid thrusts were producing inevitable effects. 

Their hips crashed together once more, and he could clearly tell that Bender was also having the same problem.

But then all at once Bender stopped. When he spoke, his voice was strained, and his eyes flitted to the door.

“All right, Clark, I’ve stopped. Now get off.”

  
They sat there, their breath accelerated to slight panting now from their... activity. With a little jolt, Andy realized that he could _feel_ Bender’s erection underneath his jeans, just to the left of his groin. That realization made his own cock fill out even more, and the sudden flush of arousal made him exhale a little too loudly.

Bender’s eyes immediately locked on his; suddenly the dark eyes below Andy changed. Bender’s mouth opened, and he licked his lips before speaking slowly and deliberately.

“Clark. Get the hell off me, _this instant_, or let my hands go. You have exactly two seconds to decide.”

  
The oddity of the request caught Andy off-guard, and his grip loosened on Bender’s wrists. “How the hell would having your hands free—“

  
And he never got to finish that question, because Bender had grabbed Andy’s head in both of his hands, pulled the other boy’s head within and inch of his own, and kissed him.

Thoroughly.

Andy’s mouth had already been open in surprise, and Bender’s tongue slid inside next to his own, their teeth cracking almost painfully together.

It was a kiss unlike one Andy had ever experienced before—it was not sweet and tender; no, this kiss was brutal and hungry with raw need.

It sent such jolts of desire through Andy that he shivered from it, and a small groan escaped his mouth.

It was answered with one from Bender. Andy’s cock twitched from the sound.

They’d both passed the point of no return; that much was understood without the need for clarification. So when Bender ground into him roughly again, Andy moaned softly into the other boy’s mouth, and met the thrust with one of his own.

Somewhere during the breathless grinding and kissing Andy started feeling activity down by their hips.

Bender's hands were expertly undoing his belt, and his jeans. When a strong, warm hand wrapped around his dick, Andy broke off of Bender's mouth and cried out, unable to hold back any more.

He thought he saw Bender smirk, but when he looked back over at him, the other boy's face was an expression of pure lust.

He began to fist Andy expertly, better than any girl had ever done. Andy supposed he was more experienced at this kind of thing... he tried not to think about Bender being with other guys, though, and focused simply on the overwhelming sensations.

Leaning down to kiss Bender again, reaching up to thread a hand into soft dark hair, Andy smiled a little as the boy underneath him shuddered from the touch and returned the kiss with gusto.

When they finally separated for a breath Bender spoke, startling Andy.

"This'll work better if we're next to each other," he exhaled, wringing Andy's cock with a little twist that made him gasp.

Then he let go, and Andy moved off of Bender, but was unsure of what to do next.

Luckily he didn't have to think much. Bender was freeing his own dick from his pants, and then scooched closer to Andy, and wrapped his hands around both of their cocks, pushing them up against each other as he moved his hand slowly up and down.

"_Aaah_," Andy moaned, his head falling back. He felt a mouth on his chin, then his neck, then his collarbone, and he arched up into it, reveling in it.

Bender upped the pace, and Andy thrust with him, against him, needing more of that hot, hot hand. It was too much and not enough at the same time and Andy felt like he was about to burst. 

Then Bender clenched his fingers around him in just the right way and Andy came with a hoarse shout, his orgasm hitting him hard and fast, and it rocked him to his core.

Bender's hand was still squeezing their cocks together, and while the last waves were still washing through Andy Bender was stiffening, his flushed face screwed up as he grunted better than anything Andrew could have imagined, spurting all over his hand and the floor.

They fell apart after a minute, lying on their backs and staring at the ceiling as their panting subsided.

Andy's heart was beating so hard that he feared it might break a rib, and it wasn't from the earth-shattering orgasm he had just had, either. What the hell had he just done? If his father ever found out...

Andy didn't even want to think about the possibility of that happening. He'd just have to pretend like it never happened and hope that Bender would keep his mouth shut.

He sighed, trying to calm himself down, which was ironic considering that most of the time after sex he felt incredibly relaxed.

  
Bender heard Andy's sigh and let out a low chuckle, looking over at the other boy.

"So, Clark. I think we can safely assume that you like it."

  
"What?" Andy sat up so fast that he hit his head on the toilet paper dispenser, and he cursed from the pain.

  
"Easy there, you might pull something," Bender said, his voice calm and sated and frankly un-Bender like.

Andrew wondered if this was the 'real' John Bender, at last.

"I was just saying, it's kind of a lost cause to try to deny it, now."

  
"Deny what?" Andy asked in a stupor, looking down and flushing with embarrassment at his open jeans and pulled-down boxers.

Grabbing some toilet paper, he wiped himself off and put himself back together, noticing that Bender was making absolutely no move to do the same.

  
"Well, that you like guys, of course," Bender said, as if the answer was obvious.

Andy's mouth suddenly went dry, and he could feel the color draining from his face. "No."

  
"What the hell do you mean, 'no'?" Bender asked, sitting up but not bothering to even cover himself. It was making Andy extremely uncomfortable.

  
"I'm not gay. Or bi. Or-- or anything like you," Andy said, drawing his legs in towards his hips in preparation to stand.

  
"You're not--" Bender stopped, looked at Andy, and then shook his head, letting out a low whistle.

"Well, well, what have we here. Seems Sporto will do just _anything_ to please his Papa, including the denial that he just had an amazing orgasm with a _boy_."

The Bender Andy knew had returned, now, and it was easier to be disgusted with the scowling face before him.

  
"Hah, don't flatter yourself. If it hadn't been for you humping me like a horny freak in the first place, I wouldn't even have been able to get it up at all. And I'm _not_ gay. Nobody would believe you, even if you told them what happened. They'd figure it was just John Bender trying to start some shit."

He stood up and moved towards the stall door.

  
"You really trust people that much, Clark?" Bender asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Because I'd hate to think of what your daddy would say if he knew you moan so sweet when you come touching another dick to yours."

  
Andy swallowed his rage and merely glared down at Bender.

"You wouldn't dare. I know you won't tell anyone, Bender. Because then you'd have to admit that you've been wanting this, wanting _me_. And put your dick away, for Chrissakes," he spat, sending a disgusted glance towards Bender's crotch.

Andrew opened the door and walked out, slamming it behind him so hard that it swung back open. He left the bathroom and walked back down the hall to detention.

\--  
  
Back in the bathroom Bender sat there, slightly stunned. He didn't even care that the stall door was open and that he was still quite exposed.

For the first time ever John Bender's bluff had been called. And the worst part was he'd called Andy's, too. And they were both absolutely right.

  
Long minutes dragged by before he pulled himself off the floor, cleaned himself up, and left the bathroom. He shoved his hands in his pockets and let his hair fall in his face as he walked, and it was a miracle that Vernon was too distracted with something in his office that he didn't hear Bender's boots shuffling down the hall.

He entered the library and there everyone was, as if nothing had ever happened.

Claire and Andrew were talking, Brian was eavesdropping but pretending he wasn't, and Allison was staring with interest at the ceiling.

Nobody even noticed him at first, so he kicked a filing cabinet nearby, making a large _klang_. Everyone flinched from the noise and looked at him.

He surveyed their faces for a split-second before speaking.

Brian, as always, was quite intimidated but was trying hard not to show it; Allison had that freakish little knowing smile of hers even though she didn't have a clue what was going on; Claire's look was dubious, and Andy... Andy wouldn't even meet his eyes.

  
Bender cleared his throat, and said in a sing-song voice, "Did you miss me?"

  
"Hardly," Claire said, rolling her eyes. "Andy said that the two of you got in a fight. How did you not get in trouble with Vernon?"

  
"Ah, well, we did have our disagreements, but in the end I'd say we _came_ to a compromise. Wouldn't you, Sporto?"

  
Andy's glare was so intense that Bender was certain he could feel the heat from it. But he smiled, shrugging it off.

Claire looked between the two of them. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  
"_Nothing_," Andy ground out, from between clenched teeth.

Bender strode over to his desk, sitting down and putting his feet up.

"Exactly," he said to the group at large, smiling ridiculously, though something inside him was screaming.

  
"Nothing at all."


End file.
